.Dedicated to all of those who've come before - and all who will follow.

Welcome to...The Ultimate DC RPG!

Seven decades after the emergence of superhumans, the world - as we know it - became a grim and increasingly paranoid place to live in. It was 2006, and with threats of nuclear war and between rival countries brewing, fascism and corruption slowly making it's way back into the modern era, and crime at an all time high around the world, many people cried out for salvation from their then everyday perils. The days of The Justice Society were gone, and a new era of superheroes was needed more than ever.

The call was answered. The world reacted. And three years later, the shockwaves are still felt.

In the bright and millennial Metropolis, people now speak of the man who defies gravity. The figure who, donning a crimson cloak, patrols the skies of The City Of Tomorrow with a watchful eye. Some, such as the optimistic, believe he's friend. Others, such as the powerful and profiteers, believe he's foe. But the world can only think of one word to describe him: Superman.

Within the grim and festering towers of Gotham City, it could not be more opposite. Citizens, both guilty and innocent, now live in fear for an entirely different reasons than the mob. They live in the shadow of a fearsome protector, a seemingly inhuman vigilante who's wanted by both law enforcement and the criminal underworld. Criminals, superstitious and cowardly, are his primary prey. They call him The Bat-Man.

The bolstering whirlwind of streets belonging to Missouri's Central City are not immune to this sudden trend, either. Though he can only be spotted through a blur, or the occasional gust of wind, a force of nature has arrived and made it's presence known in a big way. The scourge of criminals and champion of innocents, the young crimefighter has christened himself after the moniker of a former hero - now returned to glory. He is The Flash.

And even still, in the present day of 2009, there are heroes to be found in the unlikliest of forms. A woman dressed in ancient battle armor, protecting her 'sisters' from the wrath of pariah's world. An alien warrior that has taken the form of man, using the memory of his distant homeworld to begin anew. A member of an intergalactic peace force, designated by his rank to protect Earth at all costs. These are the myths of Earth's heroes.

But what sinister figures will their exploits inspire? Will it be enough for good to ultimately triumph over evil? And what will the world at large demand of hero and villain alike... if each truly can find a place within this brave and bold society?

This is the Ultimate DC Universe. And the answers to these questions lie with you.

This RPG is based off of a player-created continuity, similar to Marvel's Ultimate imprint. Outside of the above, and what the players themselves create, there is no pre-established continuity.

As players, it will be your job to take the basic ideas and characters of the DCU, and accordingly, reinvent them into however you see fit. Though it is your choice of how drastic the alterations should be, you are free to customize everything from a character's origin to motivations, identity, mannerisms, costume, powers, and world. Let your imagination run wild.

To apply for a character, fill out the application supplied in the OOC thread and post it in there. If your application is rejected, do not despair! Simply rework what the Gamemasters tell you is wrong with it, or in the case of multi-applications, choose another character. All players are welcome, regardless of membership status or postcount.

. Rules .

* You may choose any character appearing in the DC Universe, or an imprint of DC Comics (IE: Vertigo, Wildstorm), and revamp them for Ultimate continuity. Any character appearing outside of DC, such as Marvel or Image characters, will not be allowed.

* You are allowed a maximum of two characters. Though it is advised that you stick to one, especially at first, you will be allowed a second if you believe you can handle the responsibility.

* In the beginning, each and every character will be up for grabs. Multiple players will be allowed to apply for the same character, leaving the best application to be judged and approved by the Gamemasters. In order to be eligible, you must post your application 24 hours after the first was submitted.

* You must post at least once every two weeks, though it is preferred you post more, or your character will be up-for-grabs. Failure to post after a month will result in removal from the roster.

* PC's are not to be killed without permission. Nameless NPC's are fine, but PC's or important NPC's will require authorization. Don't do anything random, such as destroying the universe, either. Such behavior is frowned upon.

* Several storylines can be going on at once, in order to interact with other players. If a player's character does not want to be involved in another's storyline, they do not have to. Consultation and communication are the keys to a good PC-to-PC interaction.

* Sidekicks and legacy characters will be required to be permitted by the player orchestrating the mentor's role in UDC. For instance, if you want to play Superboy, your acceptance will hinder on the player playing Superman, and his thoughts.

* You can travel anywhere on Earth or off-planet, provided it is within your character's means. Time-travel is forbidden, unless it is specifically required of your character choice. (IE: Booster Gold, Rip Hunter)

* You are your character, so act like them. Create or portray their mannerisms, powers, and ideals to how they have been established in the game. BE the character - do not, under any circumstances, play yourself as the character.

* Respect the Gamemasters. If they make a request of you regarding the game, listen to them. Failure to adhere to GM, AGM, and Hype! Moderator requests will result in expulsion from the game.

* Be creative, and do not be afraid to try new and exciting things with old concepts. This is a new continuity - the laws of the regular DC Universe are not set in stone.

* All regular Hype rules apply.

* And finally, the most important rule of all: Have fun. Never take the game too seriously, or you will have lost the point. Heated arguments between players can result in probations or infractions - do not ruin it for other players. It's a game, people.

"The darkest souls are not those
which choose to exist within the hell of the abyss
but those which choose to move silently among us."

He inhaled deeply, his thin lips stretching into a wide smile as the morning sun beat down on his face.

"Finally, after all the practice runs, here I am. This will be my greatest performance", the Joker said with a chuckle as he looked out at Gotham City, mere miles away.
Chicago, Indianapolis, Gateway...all cities that have tasted the Joker's twisted brand of reality. But none could compare to the jewel sitting before him. Like a black diamond in the rough, Gotham would be the grandest stage. Here was a populace begging to be set free, and the Joker would not fail them.

The Joker disregarded the massive, green-scaled reptile-man that came up behind him.

"Ah hell, who cares", the Joker laughed as he walked back to the lead truck in the carnval caravan."Let's get the party started!"

The Joker hopped into the passenger's seat of the truck as he crocodillian underling sat behind the wheel. Kicking his feet out the window, the Joker cranked up the radio and rocked out to the music.

Welcome to the jungle
We got fun n' games
We got everthing you need
Honey we know the names
We are the people that can find
Whatever you may need
If you got the money, honey
We got your disease

The semi's engine roared to life, and the procession slowly drove down the road towards Gotham.

"Watch it bring you to your...shananananaknees, kneeees", the Joker stuck his head out singing loudly to the cars driving in the opposite direction.
"I wanna watch you bleed! HahahahHAHAhahaHAhahaha!"

The Joker cackled all the way into town, slapping the outside of the truck's door in delight as Gothamites looked on to the curious caravan with a mix of suspicion and wonderment.

"There we go, Croc", the Joker pointed up ahead to a large abandoned lot sitting next to the river. "That will do nicely. A perfect place to set up camp!"

"Then tomorrow, we make the grand announcement", the Mad Jester stated with a devilish grin as he puffed up in pride."The carnival has come to Gotham!"

The sound of chuckling laughter could be heard from all those with earshot as the troupe of carnival trucks made their way into the abandoned lot and immediately went to work setting up for the show...

__________________"Take the risk of thinking for yourself, much more happiness, truth, beauty, and wisdom will come to you that way."

"Still can't believe you're leaving me in here,"Guy remarks. He's lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling. As he talks, he turns the ring on his finger absently. "I mean, can you imagine where you'd be right now if it wasn't for me?" he asks, leaning over the edge of the cot.

I smile without looking away from the small mirror over the sink. I watch Guy lean back through the mirror. "Hey, you're meeting with the board in - what? - four months?" I ask positively. Guy, he's been in here longer than me. And it doesn't seem like he's getting out any time soon.

Guy scoffs. "Yeah, like they're going to let me out," he rolls his eyes. I can't help but feel sorry for him. When he was younger, he pulled a grand theft auto. Got caught, too. He's been in and out of several institutions since. Shame, 'cause he's a nice guy.

"Whenever you get out, look me up," I offer.

"I'll keep that in mind." Guy plays with his ring a little more before sitting up on the cot. The damn thing squeaks louder than anything I've ever heard. Many a-night, that thing woke me up. "When I get out, you know what I'm going to do?" he asks excitedly. "I'm going to see the world! I figure, there's gotta be more to life than these four walls, right?"

I nod.

"What are you gonna do, Ollie, now that you're getting out?"

I shrug as I turn to face my cellmate. "I don't know. I mean, I've got so much to do," I explain. It's the truth. I've had eight long years to think about this day, and I've come to many conclusions. However, for once in my life, I need to practice delayed gratification. Everything will come together in time.

I feel the patch of rough hair on my chin. Outside, I prided myself on always looking sharp, but in here? I don't know. Shaving seem like a waste of time. "What d'you think? Should I keep this?"

Guy snorts. "For my sake, please shave it. You look like a jerkoff." I smile, and we allow a peaceful silence to pass.

"Queen! It's time," the guard announces.

I extend a hand, and Guy takes it. "You take care of yourself, Guy."

"Me? Worry about yourself."

I nod. "Will do."

***

The bright sunlight forces me to squint as I step outside. I turn back to the prison gates. "You guys wouldn't happen to have sunglasses that I can borrow, would ya?" I ask half-jokingly. The guards merely stare at me from behind their sunglasses. I shake my head and turn back around. I'm surprised my old clothes still fit me. Well, barely, anyway.

When I reach the curb, I take my first real breath of fresh air. Eight long years of confinement - easily the worst eight years of my life - are literally and figuratively behind me. And yet, for as troubling as they were, they may have been the best thing for me when I look back on my life in twenty, thirty, sixty years. 'Cause I have a brand new perspective on things.

I whistle for a cab, and he pulls to a stop. Opening the door, I glance at my surroundings once more. It's been eight years since I really saw it. Star City. My home. "You know Queen Industries, right?" I ask the cabbie as I slip in. He doesn't answer; he just starts the cab. That must be a "yes."

-if i had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. and contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. and what it wouldn't be, it would. you see?

Space, 1985

It was a strange day, unexplainable events that were all kept very hush hush by the government. Who would believe the astronauts that saw what happened. Besides the government would very much like just to forget what happened that day

Most the astronauts eventually went on to live very normal lives all but one who was confined to Arkham Island for the rest of his life. Until, the day he died he only spoke one word over and over again.

"MAGEDDON...MAGEDDON...MAGEDDON!"

Mageddon the Living Nothing, the Void of Forever chained by the heroes of Wonderworld. They have long disappeared or so we thought.
********the escapist: Part 1
Fawcett City Orphanage, Now

This past week probably couldn't be any worst for Bill Baston. He had spent most of his life here. On his sixteen birthday his friends had left, Mary was adopted and Freddie well he was almost eighteen but he finally escape this place. He said that he was going to make it big in Gotham and once he had enough money he was going to spring Billy.

Once again he was alone, his friends of five years have left him in the house that Sivana built. Speaking of Sivana it was his daily inspection. He was aided by his goon Stanley Ibac who took pleasure of beating them up on a routine basis.

"Now, now children who is any healthy mind based on?"

"Logic, reason, and cold hard facts." The children said in unison, Sivana's motto.

"Good, good. Remember children where hear to purge you of any nasty things that is able to burrow into your soft minds....what is that?" Pointing a finger at Billy's bunk.

"What are you talking about?"

"That, you little snot. Ibac!" Ibac pushes Billy out of the way but Billy pushes back.

"Hey, you can't touch that. That's my property!"

"Nothing here is your property. It all belongs to me. Ibac!"

"Out of the way, twerp." Ibac pushes Billy to the ground and retrieves the comic. Sivana thumbs through it.

"Well, it seems here that our little Mr. Baston imagination ran a bit wild." The comic was a few pieces of paper stuck together penciled and written by Billy himself. Someone dubbed Captain Marvelous fighting off a evil Professor Sivana and dumb brute named Ibac.

"You find this funny?!" Pointing at the crudely drawn pictures of Sivana.

"I'm gonna turn you into hamburger."

"No, no Stanley. Put him in the hole." He nods and grabs Billy.

"Hands off, creep." He slams on Ibac's foot but before he can escape Ibac tackles him. He drags him to the basement and throws him into a small door that leads to a small space in the wall. Its cramp, damp, and there is no light whatsoever. The hole the ultimate form of isolation. Billy can't stand it here. There was something moving in here with him. Great, now there was rats.

"D...don't worry, Billy."

"Who's there?"

"The dark's not that scary once you get used to it. Don't you remember us, Billy from long ago?" It sound like a flashlight turned on

John Peterson is an immoral man. Last Tuesday he paid an under aged rent boy to fellate him whilst driving around Gotham City in his limousine. His wife was sat at home worrying about the whereabouts of her teenage son Stephen Peterson and tried to contact her husband several times, to which he scoffed and simply pressed the “Ignore” button on his cell phone. He has been a board member of Scott Enterprise for almost twelve years and to this very day he has felt undervalued, the senile old owner Alan Scott had barely spoken a word to him during this time let alone acknowledged Peterson’s accomplishments. Today was the day that John Peterson would finally get his own back, today was the day that Alan Scott was going to be ousted from the company and he would assume the position of CEO.

The boardroom was more tense than usual. Each of the members bar Scott and his thug of an associate Ted Grant, who seemed to refuse to grow old respectfully, knew that this would be Alan Scott’s final meeting. Despite the fact Scott’s tenure had lasted almost half a century he had not amassed many allies on the board, he had made few friends in his life due in part to the post traumatic stress disorder he had developed after the crash of the first “Scott Express” all those years ago. Andreas Schott – “Alan Scott” as he was known to the public – was the public face of the company after all and despite the fact he was extremely introverted the people of Gotham City had never forgotten the day he had saved countless lives.

John Peterson made his way through the itinerary until he reached the bottom and silence fell around the room, people shuffled in their chairs in anticipation and chewed their nails nervously. John on the other hand smiled slightly as he realised this was the moment he had been waiting for, the unreachable star had been reached, he stood up from his chair and cleared his throat as insincerely as possible.

“The board has decided that today will go down in history as a turning point in the history for Scott Enterprise. Today will be the day that we elevate you to CEO Emeritus and we thank you for your invaluable contribution to Scott Enterprise over the year. We believe that due to your age and wavering health that you would be better served as an ambassador for the company worldwide, thus forth you shall be allowed some well earned time to relax and live out your life as comfortably as possible. I would very much appreciate if you would all join me in a round of applause for Mr Scott and his contri-“

Throughout the speech Alan had remained impassive to Peterson’s attempts at “letting him down gently”, which despite the kind words were laced with contempt, however Scott’s best friend was finding swallowing what John had to say slightly more difficult.

“Screw your round of applause… you’re trying to muscle Al out? He built this company from the ground up!” he roared at the top of his voice.

Alan sighed and placed his hand on the shoulder of his lifelong friend and muttered quietly.“That’s more than enough Teddy…” smiling as he did so, Scott picked up his green jacket from the back of his chair and put it on, moving towards the door as he did so. He motioned towards the door to Grant and his behemoth of an associate made his way out of the room, Alan glanced round the room one last time before waving to the rather shocked board members with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I guess this is goodbye then.”

One week ago

John Peterson floats around the room with a very wide smile on his face. Recently he got his teeth whitened and he intends to show them off now that he was acting CEO of Scott Enterprise, once again he was fellated by his under aged rent boy on the way to the party. Today they would drink champagne and tell anecdotes about Alan Scott to thank him for his contributions to Scott Enterprise over the past half century or so. Ted Grant looks out of place in his ill-fitting and tight suit, by himself he stands and takes a sip out of a flask he prepared himself despite the free champagne on offer.

“This is ****ing horrendous…” he mutters to Alan, who smiles sincerely for the first time in a long while; there’s a reason that Ted Grant is his best friend, despite the huge fortune that Alan had amassed over the years Ted has remained exactly the same as the day they had met. Despite Ted’s relative wealth he often visited the Narrows, where both he and Alan grew up, to remind himself of his roots.

“I’m starting to think you’re only happy when you’ve got something to complain about old friend.”Alan said as he nudged his friend in the ribs. It was uplifting for Ted to see Alan joking around, which he rarely did, especially given the circumstance.

“Yeah well it’s only going to get worse… that smug little snake who stole the company out from underneath you is coming over.”

Peterson approached Scott with open arms and embraced the elderly man in a way that one would a friend of many years, which was inappropriate given their less than friendly relationship and Scott’s frail figure.

“How are you? You old dog…”

Today

“Leave.”

The teenaged boy between John Peterson’s legs screamed at the sight of the flying man and leapt from the limousine, the driver who served as Peterson’s bodyguard also was elevated high above the roofless limousine in an emerald bubble. Peterson’s unknown attacker lifted Peterson by his lapels and flew high into the sky; Peterson kicked his feet around violent and screamed in terror, he felt the warm yellow liquid make its way down his trouser leg and he wept like he had never wept in his life.

His attacker smiled upon realising what a pathetic husk he had reduced Peterson to.

“You tried to take my company from me…”

Suddenly John realised that the blonde haired man who had torn the roof off of his limousine as if it was made of aluminium was none other than Alan Scott himself. Scott laughed as he saw the man struggle with that nugget of information; how could it be possible? How could an eighty year old man be possible of this? There wasn’t a single wrinkle upon Alan Scott’s face, he moved with renewed vigour and passion unlike that which Peterson had ever seen from him…

The sun was shining on Gotham City. More specifically it was shining through the shades and into Commissioner Jim Gordon's eyes as he tried to make breakfast for the second time in a month.

"Babs, your toast is up," he shouted, making an attempt to straighten his tie as he simultaneously tried to pull his jacket on. He was flicking through the mail as his teenage daughter rushed into the room with a flurry of red hair.

"Where's James?" Gordon asked, ripping open a purple envelope.

"He didn't come home last night," his daughter stated, matter-of-factly. Jim paled, choking on the piece of toast in his mouth. Barbara rolled her eyes.

"Relax, he's over at Stephanie's," she muttered darkly, picking at the toast on the plate in front of her. Jim frowned.

"Toast is no one's favourite Dad. And don't call me princess," she said.

"You used to like that," he said quietly.

"I was seven. I also used to run around in a tiara and fairy wings, but you don't see much of that anymore do you," his daughter said wryly. Jim looked at the ornate ticket in curly handwriting that was in front of him.

"Huh," he said "free ticket to the carnival. Wanna be my plus one?"

Barbara looked at him with frank disgust.

"Why don't you ask Sarah?" she spat, standing up and grabbing her schoolbag.

"Now that's not fair," he called after her as she left the room and walked out the front door.

"You're not fair!" she shrieked, slamming the door.

"Yeah, well you're grounded young lady!" he shouted back. There was silence. Jim watched her go for a second before punching the wall in frustration.

"God damnit!" he shouted.

**********

"What we got here?" Jim asked, taking a puff of the cigarette in his hand as the uniformed officer untaped the crime scene.

"Jane Doe, mid to late teens at a guess," the woman said, gesturing to the bloodied corpse that had been moved into a sitting position against the alley wall "And...well boss, you'd better look for yourself,"

The uniform was right, it was a teenager. She had red hair, and some sick bastard had dressed her in a cop's outfit, then drilled two holes either side of her head and let the blood drain out. A look of unadultarated horror was etched on her young face, and in her screwed up hand was a piece of paper.

hI! I'm bAbS, aNd My DaDdY-kInS lIkEs To PlAy ThE bIg DaMn HeRo. He'S tHe BiG bAd CoMmIsH, sO hE hAs LoTs Of EnEmIeS iN hIgH pLaCeS. sOmE hIgHeR tHaN oThErS. tHiS iS jUsT a MeSsAgE tO tElL hIm To BaCk ThE **** oFf BeFoRe SoMeOnE rEaL gEtS hUrT. hOw LaRgE dOeS tHe TaLlY hAvE tO bE bEfOrE yOu LeArN bOsSmAn? AnYhOo, GoT tO dAsH, sOmEoNe'S pUtTiNg A pOwErToOl InTo My BrAiN!ToOdLeS! XoX

Gordon looked at the balled up bit of paper for a second, before taking a deep shuddering breath.

"Right, someone call Essen and her freakshow down at MCU, get them off of their ****ing asses and down here right ****ing now," he shouted "But tell the good captain that I'm running this one,"

"Boss? Are you sure that's a good-" the uniform started. Jim turned around and growled at her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise up.

"Someone has made a personal threat against me and my family, so yes, I'm running this one," he snarled "Now I'm putting you in charge of getting all of this cleared up before some freak in a mask shows up,"

"Sir," a sandy-haired officer shouted, pointing at the wall next to the girl.

"What?" he barked. The young man gestured at a thin groove in the brickwork, next to the red haired girl's head.

"Number one, sir,"

**********

Jim leant back in his chair, cigarette in mouth, trying to massage some of the ache out of his temples. He wondered if he could persuade the Mayor to let him hire a masseuse full time. If not, he could always promote Sarah. Or demote. Whichever was neccessary. The woman in question gave him a glare from her desk in the MCU, which occupied the offices just opposite his. Harvey Bullock walked by and dumped another pile of paperwork on her desk, to her general dismay. He closed his eyes for a second, hoping to catch some kind of respite from the ultimate ****** day he was having.

It has been exactly 1564.56 years that I overthrew the Computer Kings. Visions of my past life in the flesh cell come to me at random during memory cycles.

I remember my wife, my child. I remembered when I destroyed them. They were mere germs in the organism known as Brainiac. I remember when my wife pleaded with me about our son, our future. I told her about my DNA samples if I do wish to carry on my line.

I remember destroying them, I feel nothing. Emotions were germs.

I remember my old body. It grew weak a feeble. Its orgainic mind obsolete. The development of the non flesh body was a necessity. My brain was a mere sponge now it carries thousands and thousands of yottabytes of data.

Drones work at useless mathmatic equations and inessential experiments. The universe completely changes itself every yoctosecond. It is impertive that order is brought to the universe. It be must all become part of the organism known as Brainiac. Germs fester away at Brainiac. It cries to be cleanse of these useless creatures. More and more sectors of space become part of Brainiac. My probes are sent great distance....It was improbable that one could expect the results of the one probe and its nanobots.

Earth.....

Chaotic incarnate. The probe made contact with this planet full of emotion and chaos. It has made incontrolable agents. It needs to be sterilzed. I can feel the madness of Earth crawl its way to the brain of Brainiac, me.

"I am experiencing madness."
******
Gotham,

He was American's new serial killer craze. He fealt pride. Although, it was strange that he never cravings at first viewing these people as some sort cancer that needed to be craved out. Maybe, thats what being crazy is all about, he thought and smiled. He wore a black suit with black gloves. The woman that lays in a mess on the couch does not now why she came home with this man. He wasn't her type but she was compelled as if he was controllering her like a puppet.

Of course, when she finally thought about it it was too late. The killer wiped his knife clean. A job well done and now its time to sign it. He dipped his finger in blood and wrote on the wall.

Dear, Boss I got another one of your germ people, I hope you don't mind.So much dirt in the world its hurt to breathI think it all comes from the voice it my head it sounds like an old speaker shouting at meMaybe its God...maybe its a Devil, maybeI will do it again and there is nothing you can do to stop me...

Dr. Rhiannon Palmer studies her computer screen in her office which contains the outline for a purposal for her supervisor Dr. Silas Langstrom.

I hope the last eight months of turning down dates, working 70 hour days and most holidays was worth all of this. Can't wait for this to be done in two weeks it'll all be worth it...I hope. Not to mention leading a double life takes a lot out of me...but given my night-time job...I can't complain.

She begins to save her program when a voice behind her says, "All work and no play Dr. Plamer..."

Rhiannon turns around and sees Dr. Langstrom standing there. She says, "Good evening sir I was just finishing up."

Silas says, "I need to be honest with you Dr. Palmer. I have read your preliminary reports and also been following your progress from a far andI have to say I find your work..."

OH here comes the hammer....

Silsa says in alomst a whisper, "Groundbraking and extraordinary. Your cancer research project is one of the best projects I have seen being one in this lab in the last decade so much so you are not presenting it to me. I won't allow it."

Rhiannon is stunned and starts to stammer, "But you just said it...why!?!?"

Silas replies, "Because presenting to me will be a formality and a waste of time and resources. I am approving your project to continue forward but there is a condition to it."

Rhiannon stares intently

Silas says, "Your presentation in two weeks will be in front of the board of directors of Wayne Enterprises. If it meets with their approval I can see us going to human trials within 2 years. The only thing you need to do to get their approval is basically promise that the Government won't be invovled."

Rhiannon's jaw slowly opens and she mouths "board of...."

Silas nods and says, "Rumor has it that Bruce Wayne himself might even be there. Fact is though Dr. Palmer I believe in your work and you. I have no doubt about this project you are one of the brightest minds I have ever seen come though those doors."

Rhiannon says, "Coming from you that is high praise thank you."

Silas nods and says, "You're welcome and take the next two days off. Your project is ready to go. That's an order."

Rhiannon nods as Silas leaves saying, "Good night Dr. Palmer."

Rhiannon gets back to her apartment and drops off her briefcase. With that she shinks down and becomes The Atom. She shifts her weight and begins floating out through the air-ducts in her apartment.

Ahhh no matter how times I do that I still can't get over being able to do that.

She spots a Jewelry Store robbery in progress.

Well going from the highs of work to the scum of the street. Life is never boring for me that is for sure.

The Atom floats into the air-duct and spots two theives. One of them has their back to her. She floats over to them and shifts her weight landing with her full-force on top of them.

She says, "Something tells me you aren't part of the cleaning crew."

As one robber falls another charges her. The Atom quickly steps aside and floats upward. She then shifts her weight again and lands on top of the robber's head knocking him out cold.

The Atom floats over to the alarm panel.

The wires have been crossed creating a continous feedback loop. That's easy enough to fix.

She reconnects the wires properly and the alram begins blarring.

She screams, "AHH! I forgot at my size the alram is like sitting next to a jet engine."

The Atom floats away as the police arrive.

Not too bad I think I'll keep floating around...and hope that this ringing in my head stops at some point.

__________________
Know yourself & your enemy & you need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles-- General Sun-Tzu

Once, a long time ago, it was called a wasteland of living dreams and nightmares. A slogan reworded twice in the last decade, both without hesitating to omit the 'dreams' part of it out. But recently, following some quick thought, it's citizens seem to have changed their minds. Convinced that a new order established by Mayor Loeb, running for his second term in-office, will make their streets safer... they've began saying positive things about the city again. They say it's changed so much in just the last three years. They boast about how the city's become a much safer place, a place in which they're finally comfortable raising their children - and other foreign notions. Dating their future spouses. Starting a happy family. Leaving an enduring legacy.

My reply is a grunt. Despite the severity of the situation, I remain silently patient. Hard to do, when my ribs are caving in, I have more than a few blood vessels severed, and I'm quite certain that I'm about to vomit the undiscernable contents of my lungs. And the computer's A.I system, programmed upon the purpose of finding the most logical solutions for it's host, is telling me to wait. Sometimes I wonder if this program was also designed to have a twisted sense of humor.

Or an even sicker since of irony.

As I stand, bleeding, awaiting either my salvation or a cruel death, I hear my uncle's dying words bringing themselves about, again. The words of infinite wisdom that I'm, in my shame and selfishness, beginning to doubt.

"Your dad would've been proud of you, junior. Both your mom and dad, they... they didn't want much from you. I mean, hell, when they died, you were barely old enough to think about the present, let alone the future. But..."

Request Verified - Welcome Home, Mr. Wayne.

My seclusion in the darkness of the underground tunnels is interrupted by a sudden light, as I react in vain, my eyes stinging from the sensation. With the sound of machinery springing to life humming in my ears, I recognize that the doors are opening, which only means my earlier guess was wrong. I did make it home alive. Guess I need to give Alfred more credit - a more positive outlook can sometimes do a man miraculous wonders. Even if, beaten beyond imagination and wishing for death every waking second, he wasn't wishing for them.

"Ugh..."

"Listen. I've lived a long time. Got myself a-...a hell of a list of mistakes. But the one thing I don't regret, and never did, was the fact that I made something of my time. The company, the lifestyle... I couldn't give a damn about it all. Not if I didn't have three sons, and the best wife a man could've ever loved, back before she died."

Blood pools around me, as I stumble my way into The Cave. Tarps covering half finished inventions and nearly completed pieces of a larger arsenal are my only company. Next to the fluttering sound of brown bats, from high above. The computer systems come to life, bringing up the criminal files I opened hours ago. My fingers only twitch, as I try to pull off my cowl... or at least loosen the choking cape. Realizing it's a futile gesture, I frustratedly try to punch something near me... only to wind up falling to the floor, taking one of the tarps with me. My uncle Phillip's still talking, and I'm forced to listen.

"My dad, your grandfather... most of the Wayne men, infact. We did what the rest of the world wouldn't. We gave our lives a purpose. We could've just squandered through life without a care in the world, without deciding what the hell we were gonna do to make it all meaningful... but we didn't. We showed the world that we were better than that. And you, junior. You've been trying to do just that. All that time away, everyone else thought you were just grieving your folks. But I knew different."

He pulled the dirty trench coat in tight around him as the rain beat down. Scratching his beard, John looked around for some form of shelter. Finally he found it in the form of a covered bus stop. An elderly woman was standing there as well, huddled in the other corner trying to stay dry.

"Hello there", John said with a polite nod.

"Hello yourself, young man. It seems that intelligent minds think alike", she replied as she nodded to the bus stop covering them.

John chuckled, "They do indeed."

They stood there in silence for a few minutes as the rain pattered on the roof of the bus stop. The woman had been eyeballing him with a look of hesitance and sympathy.

"You...you're...a...", she fumbled out as she tried to find the words. John clearly knew what she wanted to ask, it was just that she didn't want to seem rude.
John sighed, "yes, I'm homeless. I have been for almost a year now."

"I'm sorry", she replied, the thing that 99% if the people who ask him say.

"It's okay", John replied.

"Here", she spoke as he reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.
"All I've got is twenty dollars, but you can have it. Get yourself something to eat and a haircut."

John laughed, "Not a fan of the scruffy look?"

"Not particularly", smiled the woman.

Suddenly a masked man rushed in from nowhere, knocked the woman down and took her purse. It had happened so fast, John was frozen for a few seconds before he processed what had just happened.

John darted out into the rain hot on the thief's trail. With his speed, he caught up to the crook quickly as the thief ran down an alleyway.

John halted his jog and slowly stalked in as the crook was cornered by a metal fence.

Flustered, the man turned to face John.

"Back the **** off, man", he said as he pulled out a butterfly knife.
"I will ****in' slice your God-damned throat if you take another ****in' step!"

He was jumpy, panicked. A cornered prey animal, and Amazo slowly stalked in.
John's face was cold, stoned face even. The sight of it as he slowly advanced was too much for the jittery criminal. The man screamed as he rushed towards John, stabbing down towards John's chest.

Both men stopped and remained suddenly still as the blade bent sideways as it connected with John's skin.
The crook just looked at his weapon, mystified. Wondering how in the Hell this happened.

And then he bolted off, rushing to the fence and scurrying up it with the tenacity of a rat deserting a sinking ship.

John simply walked up to the man, grabbed him by his belt, and threw him a dozen yards behind him.
The criminal yelped as he bounced and smacked against the side wall of the alley.
The rain's onslaught suddenly stopped, and the crook groaned as he slowly tried to rise. With a sudden jerk, he quickly was lifted off of his feet.

Amazo held the man up by his throat, choking the life from him."You people make me sick", John growled."Preying on helpless people. You don't care who you hurt as long as you get yours. Scum like you don't deserve to live."

Amazo's eyes burned like hot coals, and twin beams of intense heat shot from them and burned through the man's head.
The crook didn't even get out a scream as the heat vision burned a hole through his forehead and brain, and out the back of his skull.

John let the limp body drop sickly to the ground, and bent down to pick up the purse.

Wiping the creases and dust from his coat, John jogged out and back to the bus stop where the woman still waited.

Her eyes were wide with surprise as John walked up.

"Here's your purse", he smiled warmly, handing it back to the woman.

"Thank you", she said, her initial shock of it all finally subsiding.
"Thank you so much. May God bless you, young man."

"It's okay", John shrugged, "just doing what anybody would do."

"It was a pleasure meeting you", he said with a wave as he walked away.

"Wait", the woman said as he went digging in her purse.
"I still owe you that twenty...dollars..."

The woman only took her eyes off of him for a second, but when she brought her head up from her purse, John had disappeared...

__________________"Take the risk of thinking for yourself, much more happiness, truth, beauty, and wisdom will come to you that way."

"Central City EMS arrived on the scene just as The Flash disappeared. No one was hurt from the collapse of the bridge, and as always, nobody was able to take a picture of Central City's Scarlet Speedster. Reporting for WCCN, I'm Linda Park."

"Did you see that?!" Wally says excitedly as the local news continues on.

"Nobody even saw him, he's that fast!" I smile at my little brother as we sit on the couch watching tv.

"Alright boys." Mom says as she walks in from the kitchen.

"You hungry?"

"Always."

Dad sits down at the kitchen table just as we start to eat.

"How was work, honey?" He asks Mom as he shovels corn onto his plate.

"It was fine. Robert got some good shots of the bridge collapse."

"He get any of The Flash?"

"Nope. We've outfitted our photographers with cameras that can show a hummingbird's wings, but we can't catch this guy."

"What makes you so sure it's a guy?" Dad says with a smile.

"Ju bink hes an ablien?" I say with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Chew your food."

"I said, do you think he's an alien? I hear that Superman from Metropolis is an alien."

"Don't know what he is, son. At the department, we have one detective working on the case, looking for this guy."

"Why? Is he that much of a threat?"

My dad looks at me with his piercing blue eyes.

"No. But I don't trust him. I know people around here used to love the old Flash, but you don't know where guys like that stand. You want to make a difference in the world? Put on a badge or become a doctor. Anyone who's doing that is just trying to show off."

"Well, if he's a show off, then why doesn't he stick around for the cameras? Why in three years has nobody taken a picture of him?"

"Maybe he has something to hide? I mean, he could be just as bad as that costumed guy and girl he took down last year. Snart and Rory."

Wally starts to shake his head.

"You're wrong, dad! The Flash is the best superhero ever. He's better than Superman or that crazy guy in Gotham!"

"Alright, settle down." Mom says as she takes her fork and pushes another pork chop on my plate.

"Let's not get into a debate at the dinner table."

*********************

After dinner and a quick look at my homework, I fire up my laptop and log on to this forum I discovered a few weeks ago. The Superhero Hype Board. Bunch of guys out there dedicated to following the progress of the hero sightings all over America and the world.

The taxi pulls up to the precinct. I would much prefer to drive the little Maserati convertible Maroni bought me for my birthday last year, but that would draw far too much attention. After handing the cabbie his money, I step out and look up at the building with dread. Even though I'm a cop, I hate coming down here. Why? Because it means the Walk of Shame.

"Hey! Look who it is, fellas!" I'm not even two steps in the door when it begins. It's the same routine as always. That's why I'm completely unsurprised by the ringleader. "Officer Kyle, spreading her legs in the name of justice!" Pathetic, chauvinistic attempts at humor like this are enough to warrant unrestrained snickers throughout the building.

I give my fellow officer the finger. "F*** yourself, Corrigan," I growl, not giving him the benefit of looking into his eyes.

As I walk away, I hear Corrigan call out, "Sorry. I'm not the one who f***s people!" The laughter breaks out again, and I find myself clenching my fists so hard that I almost break the skin with my nails.

I see the next one coming, and my heart drops. God. Anyone but him.

"Well, well, if it isn't Sally's girl." Arnold Flass. I'd hate him more if I wasn't utterly repulsed by him. On a good day, he's barely any better than the scum we drag in. As I try to walk by him, I feel him undressing me with his eyes. It takes all my willpower not to vomit. "Hey, when you gonna take me up on my offer and let me show you how a real man does it?"

"When you find a real man," I answer. There are three types of cops in the Gotham City Police Department. The first ones are corrupt. The second ones are a**holes. The third ones are perverts. And most of 'em fall under all three. And the same is true of all men, in general. Truth is, I've never met a man I've liked.

That said, Commissioner Gordon has come close. He's the only man who doesn't talk down to me. He respects the undercover work I do, and he confides in me.

"Come in," is the rough greeting I receive when I knock on Gordon's door. I slink into the room, and Gordon merely nods. I close the door behind me as I look at the Commissioner. I can tell he's had a s*** day, too.

"I thought I should come down and give you a quick status report," I explain as I pull up a chair at his desk. "Although, I gotta tell you: things have been quiet lately."

Martha and Benjamin Dent had been prom king and queen.The pair were a happy couple, in love. They had met at the lighting of the Gotham Plaza Christmas tree in '59 and, shortly thereafter, went to college together. They were an inseparable and, eventually, had a child. Named for Martha's father, Harvey Forester Dent was born on March 12, 1976.

Having a child put a great amount of stress on the marriage of Martha and Benjamin. Fresh out of college, the pair were dealing with several things very quickly: marriage, a child, trying to put food on the table. Despite all of the hardships, though, the pair were entirely dedicated to each other. They did their best to give Harvey the best childhood they could. Slowly, but surely, Benjamin's career began to pick up steam. By the time that Harvey was 4, his father was a prominent partner Schutler, Dorian, and Shade, a Gotham law firm. Prosperity ensued for the family of three. Every summer brought a trip to DisneyWorld, every weekend brought a new toy, and each lazy summer afternoon brought about a visit to the ballpark.

In 1983, when Harvey was 7, his mother was diagnosed with goblet-cell carcinoma, a rare, incurable form of cancer. She endured a five-year long battle with the disease, traveling across the United States to find treatment. Benjamin even moved the family from the suburbs into the heart of Gotham City, in an effort to get Martha closer to Gotham General. Nothing proved helpful. Martha's body withered, her youth escaped her, and, after 5 years of fighting, she died, leaving Harvey and Benjamin alone with each other.

Benjamin was devastated. In the later stages of her illness, he had told his wife that he was "like a swan," because swans mate for life. So convinced was Benjamin that he could never love again, that he took every step to preserve Martha's place in the house. He didn't throw out her clothes, he bought piles and piles of art from artists she had loved in live, and put her picture on every wall of the house. In every sense of the word, Benjamin was living in the past.

Harvey began writing as a hobby. As the years passed, he grew more and more recognized for his abilities. This natural gift in the area of language arts lent itself to a unique ability to be a great public speaker. Harvey never shied away from a project or from a presentation. In the 7th grade, he was asked to join his school's mock trial team. Harvey's love of the spotlight flourished as he'd dress up in suits and ties and parade around court rooms, thrusting his finger in the faces of people portraying the defendants in the fictional cases. He would go on to win many awards through high school.

While Harvey flourished, his father stalled. Benjamin was forced to watch his son grow steadily more successful. Harvey participated in every sport he could, earned medals, and garnered accolades on the national level. Every university was begging for him to join their ranks. As a graduation gift, Benjamin gave Harvey his grandfather's two-headed coin. The coin belonged to Harvey's maternal grandfather and soon became a good luck charm for him. Since the day he was given it, Harvey kept his coin in his back pocket. The luck brought to him by the coin paid off, as he was being offered scholarships from top-tier universities and colleges across the United States and even abroad. Harvey accepted the offer from Harvard University. He submitted his acceptance letter on Halloween of 1994.

That night, Benjamin Dent put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

It was the longest Halloween of Harvey Dent's life.

When the police investigated the scene of his father's suicide, they found an envelope addressed to Harvey. He never opened, never dared to read the contents of the paper within. Instead, he buried himself in his work and studies. He lead Harvard's moot court program to a national championship, being noted as an All-American mock trial participant. He graduated Harvard Summa Cum Laude, proceeding to spend three years at their law school. It was there that he met Gilda Grace Gold. After many nights staying up late together, working on moot court cases, legal case studies, term papers, a romantic interest inevitably formed between the two of them.

After law school, Harvey and Gilda moved on to form their own, independent legal practice. Working together as partners in both law and love, they started accepting cases for indigent clients. They soon earned themselves a reputation for being exemplary legal duo. After three years in private practice, the prosecutor's office drafted Dent into their ranks. There, he only remained for a year before being promoted to Assistant District Attorney. As assistant DA, he took care of plea bargains, evidential hearings, and making sure the regional prosecutors fulfilled their duties.

Gotham City was a dangerous place to live in these days. Crime was rampant, corruption seemed commonplace. Above it all, though, loomed the Prosecutor's office. Regional prosecutors had been on the take in Gotham for years, keeping crime in check, but still facilitating it. The only guards of decency seemed to be the District Attorneys, who were regimental in their dedication to the pursuance of justice. Harvey Dent moreso than the rest. In fact, so dedicated was he that he had made something of a name for himself, at least in Gotham's underworld. He was known as the one prosecutor who couldn't be bought out. No matter who it was who asked him, Harvey Dent was unwavering. A thorn in the side of the criminals of Gotham, Harvey was steadily becoming a newsworthy name. His chiseled jaw and prominent brow only added to his appeal to the media.

Much to the dismay of many up-and-coming attorneys, and even a few workers in the district attorney's office, Harvey Dent was in love. Madly, hopelessly, desperately in love with Gilda Grace Gold. Her smile was never far from his mind, her name never far from his lips. She was a true confidant. Gilda had proven herself to be one of the few people Harvey could share anything with. The two were a match made in heaven. Never did a second they spent together seem to get old. She was his companion, and he was her knight in shining armor. Each night they spent together after court, in their offices, with their collars loosened talking about the days behind them, seemed to be better than the last. Harvey, sipping from his bottle of beer, smiled at her as the two stirred wild fantasy about their heads; the "what if"'s of lawyerly living. For weeks, with the elections coming up, the two had batted the idea of Harvey running for District Attorney of Gotham City around. At first it was a joke, met with drunken scoffs from the two of them. Gradually, the idea had grown less and less a joke, and more a consideration. A consideration which had brought the two the evening at hand, one where they had sat in silence for close to an hour, each sipping quietly from the bottle with which they had began.

"I think I'm going to do it." Harvey said, finally. He reached forward, put his empty beer bottle on his desk and stared at Gilda, biting the corner of his lip. He drummed his fingers on his desk, nodding to himself.
"I think I'm going to run for District Attorney."

Arkham Asylum, Gotham's nut house. All of Gotham's mentally ill are housed here, each having their own room to themselves. Despite the increasingly high numbers of mental illness in the city, only once in Gotham's history has Arkham had an overflow. By all accounts, Arkham can be considered a success. At least sixty-two percent of the inmates brought here are discharged within five to six years. However, almost eighty-nine percent of those discharged are readmitted at a later date. A bitter sweet array of statistics - at least they look good on the books.

Inside Arkham's staff cafeteria, two doctors sit at the scattered table about the room. One is Jason Todd, Arkham's liason between the facility and the courts; conducting regular sessions with the new inmates and keeping records of patient progress. In addition, he also interviews possible mentally unstable canidates on trial in the courts, making a professional opinion on their psychosis and deciding whether or not they belong in the asylum, or a cell. The other is Harleen Quinnzell, the asylum's top psychiatrist. In the course of a year, she interviews nearly every one of Arkham's inmates at least once. A tiring job - lucky she enjoys it. The two doctors sit across from eachother, staring at one another as they eat their lunch. It's been a long day already, and it's only one o'clock.

"How's your...whatever the hell that is?" Jason asks, pointing toward a piece of food on Harleen's tray. She giggles, the smile on her face slightly raising the thin framed square glasses resting nimbly on the bridge of her nose. She sticks her fork into the bit of food and breaks off a piece, bringing it to her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm not sure."She says pleseantly. She takes a bite and shakes her head. "Definently not gormet food, I'll tell you that much." Jason smiles and she smiles back, staring into his eyes as he stares into hers. He places his hand on top of hers and grins, rubbing her soft silky skin gently.

"How'd your session with Phillip Cobb go?" He asks, releasing her hand and leaning back in his chair. "Well, I can't make a diagnosis yet, but I do know he's not faking." She finishes chewing and takes a breath, continuing. "He has severe depression, possibly bi-polar. He'll go from normal into a deep depression instantly, changing his personality completely."

"Well," Todd says, leaning forward. "That would explain a few things..." he says softly, reminicing to a past encounter."I believe his motivation behind those robberies was that he was seeking attention. In one of his fits of depression, he decided to forget the rules and start a crimespree."

"Hmm...how interesting," she ponders. "I'll probably have to get him in a straight jacket, then. If he kills himself it'll be extremely bad PR.""I wouldn't worry," Todd says with a grin. "I've got a feeling he wasn't really gonna kill himself anyway." Before Harley can say another word, Todd changes the subject. "So, about tonight, you still available?""Of course," she replies with a permiscuous grin. "Great...Iceberg Lounge, good?""I've heard good things," she smiles. "Good, good. I've been wanting to try this place for a while.""Oh?" She asks with a curious tone. "How come?"

"Oh, food's good, nice atmosphere," he says in a sly tone as he rises from his seat. "Plus...the owner...intrigues me." Harleen rises from her seat too and grabs her tray. The two walk together toward the trash can and dispose of the remnants from their cheap lunch. Harleen places the tray on top of the receptical, and the two walk toward the door at the end of the room.

"So, what's on your agenda for the rest of the day?" Harleen asks, adjusting the glasses on her face. "New inmate was admitted last night. I've got to interview him and give the board my opinion." They reach the door, and Jason opens it, holding it open wide for Harleen. She passes through into the hallway and he follows, letting the door shut swiftly behind them with a loud bang. "You?"

"I've got some more sessions. Just normal weekly stuff, at this point.""Ah, the usuals, then?""For the most part." The two stop at the end of the hallway, standing idly by the door to Harleen's office. Jason puts his arm around her back, moving in close and holding her close. He smiles as he leans in, moving to a romantic kiss. She kisses him back, the two locking in an embrace in the public hall. After a few seconds, they break apart, each with a wide grin on their face. Harleen lightly smacks Jason's shoulder, giving him a false look of disapointment. "Jason, not in public," she snickers.

"Can't help it." He smiles. She laughs and turns, grabbing hold of the handle of the door and stepping into her office. As she steps inside, she turns back, giving him a look that intices him. "So, eight?"

"I'll see you then." He says proudly. "Good luck, Doctor Quinzell." He says professionally. She laughs and closes the door, telling him "bye" as the door closes tightly.

Jason stays for a few seconds, simply staring at the closed door. After a moment or two in silence, he turns and begins walking down the hallway, heading for his next assignment. "Alright, then." He says, adjusting his shirt as he continues his walk toward the interrogation room. "I may have a date with Harley later tonight, but right now?" He grins widely, proud of himself and not afraid to show it. "I've got a date with Drury Walker. I hope the swelling in his right eye went down. Looked painful."

The island has welcomed me with open arms, I now officially reside on Arkham. It's a strange thought, that I am to be living on a small patch of land surrounded by water on all sides, reminds me somewhat of Alcatraz. The feeling of claustrophobia is likely to subside within my first few weeks here, a natural emotional reaction to being 'stuck' on an island on which an asylum is housed with only one way on our off being the bridge into the Narrows. Ironic, most of the people stuck in the asylum itself originate from The Narrows. On second thought I may want to investigate this.

In any case I had an official meet and greet with the staff here, most of them perfectly competant and friendly and some of them are still here from my volunteer work as a student, they even baked me a small cake to mark my arrival and tenure here, I was most flattered. However a few things about the asylum concern me, first and foremost I have yet to meet Professor Arkham himself, I feel as though a talk with him would put my mind to rest about other, smaller issues. Is it not proper for an employer to meet his employee on his first day of work?

My quarters are more than homely and suitable, I have a small apartment within the staff block of houses. Four rooms and a kitchen and bathroom to myself rather than the shared quarters downstairs. Not that it would bother me in the slightest If I were to share with the rest of the staff, I almost feel as though I am one of the inmates myself now that I've been cordened off into my very own apartment!

All joking aside I look forward to starting my work in earnest tomorrow, apparently I'm to be taken on a tour of the facility and meet a few of the inmates. I wonder if some of the older ones remember me? I'm sure I'll remember a few of the more... unforgettable cases I met back as a student. As for now however I feel it best I get a full night's rest, tomorrow is likely to be a rather busy day.

~~~
"And this is the east wing." A rather portly woman announces as she guides a young, bespectacled man with medium length, dark hair walks beside her. "This is were all the staff facilities within the Asylum itself are kept, cafeteria, toliets, break room..." The female doctor continued. The young Doctor Crane smiles politely as the tour comes to an end.
"Well, that's pretty much everything, is there anything else in particular you'd like to know?"

Crane coughs, clearing his through and looks at her for a second with an enquiring look.
"Actually yes, there was something." He begins, the Doctor spoke with his hands a lot, moving them around. "I was told I would be granted a meeting with Doctor Jerimiah Arkham himself, when do I get thank him for my employment?"

The female doctor stops and inhaled deeply before replying. "The Doctor keeps to himself an awful lot, he doesn't like to be bothered, prefers to work alone most of the time." She said with a kindly smile. "You will get to meet him eventually though, give him time he's a busy man."

Crane looked skeptical at her, his mind ticking over the information he'd been given.

"If that's all I suggest getting back to the medical labs Doctor."

Crane nodded and smiled.
"Of course."

~~~

Arkham Diary Entry #035

The staff all seem mighty friendly and the facility itself is running effeciently. I am however dissapointed I didn't get an audience with my employer today, perhaps next time. The day is far from over, I'm simply on a break from my duties, I've already had one suicide attempt today that I had to attend to, rather nasty it was, the man had managed to sharpen a piece of wood he found lying around into a weapon before hacking at his wrists with it. He'll be treated over night in case of infection but other than that he seems to be fine. I'm sat in the cafeteria as I write this eating a meal of questionable nutritional value, I've yet to really speak to my co-workers, one interests me a fair bit as we share something in common. I was told of a man named Todd that works here as both a psychiatrist and a police liason. I'd very much like to meet him. In fact, I believe he is sitting just across from me, he matches the description I was given.

I shall finish writing up my thoughts later tonight.

~~~

Doctor Johnathan Crane put his pen down and closed his journal, pushing the dubious meal infront of him away. Rising from the table he walked over to the man he believed was Jason Todd, a young blonde woman having just left him he felt now was an appropriate time.

"Mr. Todd?" Crane asked. "Johnathan Crane, the new medical consultant." He introduced himself, holding out his hand with a smile.

The staff all seem mighty friendly and the facility itself is running effeciently. I am however dissapointed I didn't get an audience with my employer today, perhaps next time. The day is far from over, I'm simply on a break from my duties, I've already had one suicide attempt today that I had to attend to, rather nasty it was, the man had managed to sharpen a piece of wood he found lying around into a weapon before hacking at his wrists with it. He'll be treated over night in case of infection but other than that he seems to be fine. I'm sat in the cafeteria as I write this eating a meal of questionable nutritional value, I've yet to really speak to my co-workers, one interests me a fair bit as we share something in common. I was told of a man named Todd that works here as both a psychiatrist and a police liason. I'd very much like to meet him. In fact, I believe he is sitting just across from me, he matches the description I was given.

I shall finish writing up my thoughts later tonight.

~~~

Doctor Johnathan Crane put his pen down and closed his journal, pushing the dubious meal infront of him away. Rising from the table he walked over to the man he believed was Jason Todd, a young blonde woman having just left him he felt now was an appropriate time.

"Mr. Todd?" Crane asked. "Johnathan Crane, the new medical consultant." He introduced himself, holding out his hand with a smile.

Jason gives the man a friendly smile, taking hold of his hand and giving him a firm shake. "Ah, new medical consultant, hm?" Todd says with a grin. "Well, I certainly hope you won't be getting too much work around here." He says with an inviting expression.

Jason gives the man a friendly smile, taking hold of his hand and giving him a firm shake. "Ah, new medical consultant, hm?" Todd says with a grin. "Well, I certainly hope you won't be getting too much work around here." He says with an inviting expression.

Crane winces somewhat as he shakes the man's hand. "Quite the grip." He mumbles under his breath. "Yes, well." He begins, pushing his glasses back up to his face as they slid down his nose. "While I do appreciate a busy schedule, you're right, we wouldn't want too many little accidents on our hands now would we?" Crane smiles before remembering why it was he started this conversation in the first place.
"I hear you're the resident psychiatrist? You know, I'm something of an avid fan of psychology myself."

Crane winces somewhat as he shakes the man's hand. "Quite the grip." He mumbles under his breath. "Yes, well." He begins, pushing his glasses back up to his face as they slid down his nose. "While I do appreciate a busy schedule, you're right, we wouldn't want too many little accidents on our hands now would we?" Crane smiles before remembering why it was he started this conversation in the first place.

In the land of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death.
- H.P. Lovecraft

As sure as there is a house beyound your house, a country beyond your country, a world beyond your world, a galaxy beyond your own, there is another universe beyond ours. But what lies between these seperate realms? At what point does Universe A become Universe B. The point of divergence was named the Phantom Zone, after the spectres the first explorers saw there. These explorers lived on a peaceful planet, where the dominant species lived in harmony with the Earth. The zone was sealed up, never to be looked at by mortal eyes again for the horror that was there.

And one day, war came to the peaceful little planet, suspended out in the black. For once, when they were young, the inhabitants of that planet had sent forth a crusade of discovery, and exploration force. And this crusade finally came to the end, when they reached the end of the universe. The great Source Wall drove all but the best of them insane. And so it turned in on itself. To the planet that spawned them.

A great scientist devised a weapon so powerful that those who developed it never really understood it. Or didn't want to comprehend what it could do. As the ships bore down on the planet Krypton, the flagship under General Dru-Zod was hailed. A young man with the eyes of those well past his own years looked up at him with pity.

"I am truly sorry, in ways you cannot know,"

"And who are you, little man, to feel sorry for I?" General Zod asked from his throne in the control room.

"I am Jor-El. And you can never harm anyone again Dru-Zod," the scientist whispered.

A pulse shot from the surface of the planet, and a white expanse was ripped through the blackness of space. Instinctively understanding the danger, Zod ordered that his ship be turned around. But the pull was too great, and inch by inch, General Dru-Zod was dragged into the white blankness of the Phantom Zone. And he became a myth upon Krypton, a frightening bedtime story. But they soon had their own problems.

Time is different in the Phantom Zone, and yet one cannot age. So for millenia, General Dru-Zod has sat at his golden throne as his ship foated aimlessly through the void, watching as his armarda was slowly destroyed by the creatures who resided within. Eldritch abominations, from universes long since run out, ever watching, ever knowing. Malevolent. And for the infinite amount of time, General Zod has sat. And he has waited.

Crane smiled. "Why of course, Freud was one of the reasons I started reading about the human mind. While I find Jung's theories and practices too firmly based in religion to truly appreciate a portion of his work I still very much admire his passion and his contribution to the study, it really is rather refreshing to read his approach to spirituality as a cure for ails such as alcoholism. Truly thought provoking."

Crane smiled. "Why of course, Freud was one of the reasons I started reading about the human mind. While I find Jung's theories and practices too firmly based in religion to truly appreciate a portion of his work I still very much admire his passion and his contribution to the study, it really is rather refreshing to read his approach to spirituality as a cure for ails such as alcoholism. Truly thought provoking."

Jason stays silent for a moment, shocked that Crane wasn't bluffing. "Well, good to see you're serious about your hobby." Todd says, this time in a more inviting tone. "Tell me, Mr. Crane," he starts, taking a moment to breath. "Are you doing anything at the moment?"

Jason stays silent for a moment, shocked that Crane wasn't bluffing. "Well, good to see you're serious about your hobby." Todd says, this time in a more inviting tone. "Tell me, Mr. Crane," he starts, taking a moment to breath. "Are you doing anything at the moment?"

"I'm actually still on my lunch break." Crane said, nodding toward the cafeteria door in which he just came from. "Although after seeing the standard of the food here I've rather lost my appetite. You had something in mind?"

"I'm actually still on my lunch break." Crane said, nodding toward the cafeteria door in which he just came from. "Although after seeing the standard of the food here I've rather lost my appetite. You had something in mind?"

Todd grins, "Yes. I was just on my way to take an analysis of a new inmate we recieved late last night. Interested in being a fly on the wall?"

Todd grins, "Yes. I was just on my way to take an analysis of a new inmate we recieved late last night. Interested in being a fly on the wall?"

Crane smiles broadly, his enthusiasm showing rather obviously on his face. "Of course, yes I'd be honoured." The young doctor didn't have to think for a moment.

"Lead the way." He said, motioning with his arm.

The two men walk the rather decedant halls to their destination. Jason Todd caught Crane looking at some of the more woeful areas of the Asylum's structure.
"The place used to be a prison way back when." He explained.

"I had wondered." Crane chuckled. "Why did they never renovate the building?"
"Superstition mostly, word is old Doctor Arkham is as crazy as his inmates. Believes the place is haunted, won't dare touch the place for fear of angering some of the more 'Violent spirits'." Todd scoffs. "Although you didn't hear it from me." He added quickly in a hushed tone.

"Of course." Nodded Crane, letting the information sink in. After another minute or so of walking they come to a halt outside an old door.